Four Letters
by TheWickedWitchOfOz
Summary: After taking custody of his granddaughters the Eminent Thropp arranges a marriage between Elphaba and Fiyero. Bookverse, Elphiyero.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** this idea was originally Meltalviel's so thanks Mel for letting me run away and do my own thing with it :) I'm also using Mel's title (for now) because I want to post this and spent three hours pumelling my brain for idea without success

* * *

In the centre of a trade caravan travelling west of the Emerald City was a coach with two occupants - a man in his seventies, as fit as one twenty years younger, and a girl in her teens. They sat in awkward silence, she read a book while he made notes for messages to be sent home when next they stopped for the night.

The pair had been with the caravan for less than a day when another traveller, a lady of a somewhat delicate condition, caught a glimpse of the girl and nearly fainted. When her escort had revived her somewhat she declared that the girl was "green as sin!" and demanded to know why it was allowed to travel in the group.

This event prompted the guide to explain to everyone that the unusually hued young lady was the Eminent Thropp Third Descending of Nest Hardings being escorted by her Great Grandfather, the Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland, to be married to a Prince of the Arjiki Tribe.

The group soon discovered that while the Eminent Thropp was as polite and talkative as a man of his age and rank could be expected to be the granddaughter was a sulky, rude, thing and the general sentiment was that the Eminence was well rid of her though they did pity the poor boy forced to wed her.

The girl, Elphaba, didn't care at all about their opinions though she couldn't help overhearing them. She was busy being furious with her grandfather who had, after summoning their father to bring his granddaughters to Colwen Grounds, promised to send her to University as soon as she was seventeen as preparation for her future role as the Eminent Thropp. She was only just sixteen now and he had, quite precipitously, asked her to accompany him on a diplomatic journey halfway across Oz to the border of the Vinkus. It wasn't until the day they reached the Emerald City, where they would stay for a day before joining a caravan heading to the Vinkus, that he had informed her of the actual reason for their journey – she was to be married to a complete stranger in a foreign land.

_I__f only he had told me sooner I could have..._she thought for the hundredth time since her Grandfather had broken the news but this time she continued the thought. _I could have __**what**__? Run away from home? Stayed home and suffered the lectures Nessa and Nanny were bound to have given me on a __**variety**__ of subjects? Read books about the Arjiki – as if such a thing actually exists in any unbiased form? I could still run, the maid sleeps so heavily she wouldn't hear me go, but where would I go? Back to the Emerald City? And do what? Back to Quadling Country? Ha! Not likely. I doubt there's anywhere someone as..._distinctive_ as me could hide from my Grandfather __and__ the ruler of the Arjiki._

She heaved a heavy sigh that made her grandfather look up, only to see her apparently engrossed in her reading.

_No,_ she decided. _I obviously have no choice in this matter, Grandfather has anticipated everything I could possibly do. Who would have thought the man could know me so well after such a relatively short acquaintance?_

She closed her book, loudly, and looked squarely at her Grandfather.

"What's his name?"

"I beg your pardon?" he replied, not looking up from his note making.

"The man you have so summarily engaged me to?"

"It was hardly a hasty decision, Elphaba, it took several years to arrange."

"One would hardly think so from all the warning you gave me," muttered Elphaba.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing you care to hear I'm sure. Will you answer my question?"

"I never did get his name," replied the Eminent Thropp with a shrug. "The Arjiki King and I referred to you both by your relationship to us. It will be written on the formal agreement that I will sign upon our arrival naturally."

"Naturally," muttered Elphaba, raising her voice to a barely audible level she apologised for interrupting his correspondence and returned to her reading.

_I suppose it should have occurred to me that I'm nothing to my grandfather but a tool of his political ambitions._

Unable to keep quiet, her grandfather often chided her for that bad habit as did the various teachers he'd employed for her and her sister since they'd gone to live with him, Elphaba closed her book again.

"What did you have to promise them to have me taken off your hands? Or did you just neglect to mention my..." she ducked her head, making a mockery of the 'womanly decorum' she was frequently lectured about. "Peculiarities?"

"Only the most obvious physical 'peculiarity'," replied her grandfather with obvious disinterest. "I thought your personality was best left as a surprise for _after_ the wedding, so I would be much obliged if you would refrain from speaking more than necessary until the day after the occasion."

"As the beloved Patriarch of my family wishes,_ of course_."

And that was the last Elphaba spoke to anyone until the morning of the day they were expected to reach Kiamo Ko.

The maid her grandfather had brought along from Colwen Grounds timidly shook her mistress until she woke up.

"We're not leaving already are we?" said Elphaba, when she saw that it was still dark outside.

"No, Miss, the Eminence said I was to wake you early today and help you dress."

"And why should my Grandfather presume me to be somehow less capable of dressing myself in a timely fashion today?"

"He gave me a note for you, Miss," replied the maid, visibly nervous as she took a folded piece of parchment from her apron pocket.

_I have had delivered to your tent a trunk containing clothing more suited to your station in life. Choose something appropriate for our first meeting with the Royal family of the Arjiki. Though I am sure you will do as I request I have had your old clothes removed just to be sure._

"I see. I presume you know the gist of the contents of this note?"

"Yes, Miss," replied the maid, curtseying anxiously. "Shall I unpack your dresses for you so you can choose one?"

"I suppose you had better," agreed Elphaba, wearily wishing that her grandfather had never heard of her mother's death, surely squelching through the muck of Quadling country couldn't really be as bad as this!

The maid, also the niece of the family dressmaker, knew exactly how much trouble had gone into making the dresses in the trunk. The Eminence had chosen the fabrics himself, clearly with no regard for colour coordination between clothing and wearer, and she had been dreading Miss Elphaba's reaction to them ever since they left Colwen Grounds. Swallowing hard she opened the trunk and winced slightly as she lifted out the first dress, made of lavender cotton with a wide silk ribbon in a slightly darker purple to be tied around the waist.

Elphaba raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything until after the maid lifted out the third dress (the second was a quite acceptable darkish red brown velvet) and the girl saw that it was not plain white cotton, as it looked on first inspection, but white with a pattern of small pink flowers of a variety that she was certain had never appeared in nature.

"Are you quite certain that is the right trunk? Never mind, I can tell from the expression on your face that it is."

Elphaba lifted the last two dresses out of the trunk herself. One of them was light blue with white lace at the collar and wrists; the other was white with black dots all over. Elphaba took a deep breath and then another before speaking again.

"Absolutely certain?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss."

"I was afraid of that. My grandfather has _clearly_ lost his mind if he thinks I'm going to be seen in public in any of these abominable garments!"

"I did presume to tell him that, Miss, as did the dressmaker when he chose the fabrics but he was quite determined."

"Well I am determined as well!" said Elphaba fiercely. She crossed her arms and glared at the maid, more because the woman was _there _than because she blamed her.

"Miss Elphaba, please, they aren't so bad really!" pleaded the maid, fearing (correctly) that she would be the one who had to break the news to the Eminence if Elphaba refused to wear any of the dresses.

"I wasn't disputing the fact that the dresses are pleasant enough to look at. I was pointing out the fact that putting them on _me_ would make them infinitely less attractive! But I can see you'll venture no opinion on the subject."

"It's not m' place to say, Miss, one way or t'other," replied the maid, so nervous she slipped back into the country accent she thought she'd forgotten in the years since she'd become a Lady's maid.

"No, of course, we must never forget our place in the world now must we? Never mind trying to think of an answer, that was rhetorical."

"So which dress would Miss like to wear?" asked the maid nervously, aware of the fact that the sun had risen while they were arguing and doubting that Miss Elphaba would like the dresses any more by sunlight than she did by lamplight.

"Miss would almost rather appear in her nightclothes than any one of these gowns however as Miss is not likely to have a choice she will wear the plainest, darkest, one in this pile."

She looked up from the pile to see the maid shifting her weight nervously from one side to the other.

"Oh what now?" she exclaimed irritably.

"Yer gran'father, he said I was not t' "let" you choose that'un, Miss."

"I should have guessed that he would **not** want me to wear the one colour that could possible suit me. Fine. Which of these...items, aside from the one that I am not permitted to wear, would you suggest will look the least ridiculous when I put it on? With the clear understanding that I am aware any of them will look ridiculous to some degree."

Elphaba felt she had to add the last, just in case the maid was under the impression that she thought any of them would suit her. Meanwhile the maid mentally contrasted what Miss Elphaba had been wearing for the earlier part of the trip to the dresses laid out around the place and barely managed to suppress a sigh.

"I suppose this one is probably the best, Miss," she decided, after a few minutes, indicating the black spotted white cotton.

"That will do," agreed Elphaba. "Dare I ask if I'll be able to fasten it myself?"

"Yes, Miss, your Grandfather specifically requested that they be made so you could wear them without assistance, in case there was none to be had there."

She indicated 'there' by gesturing in the direction of the castle that was their destination.

"Excellent. You can leave now then; get yourself some breakfast before we set off."

"Yes, Miss," agreed the maid gratefully, she remembered one more thing just before she left. "Oh Miss, there are shoe & hat boxes in the bottom of the trunk too."

"Of course there are," muttered Elphaba as the maid departed with excessive haste.

_After all, what is the point of showing off how fashionably one can afford to dress one's relatives unless you outfit them completely? Well he and I shall be having words about this and no doubt about it. I may not be able to convince him to let me wear one of my 'shapeless sacks' as he calls them but I'll make damned sure he's knows exactly what I think of his taste in fashion!_

With a last, almost longing, glance at the dark coloured gown she picked up the one she had chosen to make sure that she could put it on herself. The dress was fastened with a row of stylish, so Elphaba assumed, black buttons from waist to neck – fairly similar to the way her usual clothing worked despite the radically different style of this dress. With no more reason to put it off she exchanged her nightgown for her undergarments and examined the dress one last time. The dressmaker, probably realising from previous fittings that Elphaba didn't wear or own certain garments that fashionable ladies considered essential, had included enough petticoats in the trunk for _three_ women and Elphaba wondered exactly how many she was expected to wear at one time.

_Enough_, she thought with a degree of cynicism more suited to a woman three times her age. _To make my hips look wider, like a Gillikinese milkmaid's, probably. I'm grateful for the small mercy of the fact that summer is ended. _

Finding another reason to stall after she put the petticoats on it occurred to her that she should get shoes and stockings out of the trunk while she could still bend down far enough to reach. As soon as she'd opened the first box she really wished she hadn't because she couldn't imagine what had possessed her grandfather to buy _high heeled_ shoes for a girl who, after her last growth spurt, was taller than him!

"Because I'm not enough of a freak already," she muttered angrily. "He has to have me towering over half of the room as well!"

_Though if I'm lucky,_ she returned to silent thought after realising she'd actually spoken loudly. _The average height among the Arjiki will be more then at home and mine won't be quite so obvious._

At least it was obvious, even to her untutored eyes, which pairs of shoes were intended for which gowns and she was thankful too that the pair she was going to wear were a simple plain white. Naturally she refused to even open the hatboxes she'd never worn hats and wasn't about to start now, her grandfather would have to be satisfied with the gown and shoes!

* * *

The Eminent Thropp stood overlooking the preparations for departure, calculating how much time he had before he would have to go and talk to his granddaughter. He was quite surprised to hear her speak behind him shortly before went in search of her.

"Your Eminence," she said, her voice soft but still harsh as ever, and the formal address did not bode well for the subsequent conversation. "I would very much like to have some words with you."

"From your tone," he replied without looking at her. "I presume the maid has passed on my instructions."

"She has," confirmed Elphaba. "I will say that I understand why you felt my usual attire was not appropriate to this...occasion but I would be much obliged to you if you would enlighten me as to whether it was colour-blindness or the _tragic_ onset of senility that led you to go out of your way to choose the **least** flattering fabrics you could find! And then not permit me to wear the one garment in the collection that was the slightest bit acceptable to me!"

"You mean that hideous brown velvet?" asked her grandfather, starting to turn around now that she had finished her diatribe. "It looked much more..."

His voice trailed away as he realised she was wearing one of the dresses he had chosen **and**, as proven by the fact she towered nearly four inches over him, the shoes to go with it as well! She'd even made the effort of having her hair pinned into something _resembling_ a fashionable style instead of letting if fall any which way over her face, as if any amount of hair could hide that sharp chin and pointed nose.

"You needn't stare!" snapped Elphaba, annoyed by his silence in the face of her quiet anger – how she wished she dared raise her voice and scream at the top of her lungs at him! "The looks I received as I walked this way were quite enough to tell me that I **look** as absurd as I **feel**! No doubt they wonder why you wasted your time, and money too, dressing me up so."

"It's not their place to wonder anything about _my_ granddaughter," he muttered and Elphaba's eyes widened, was he actually defending her?

"And you don't look ridiculous," he added, clearly as an afterthought.

"Ha!" declared Elphaba, so softly that the single syllable was more a sound than a word.

"Though I do think the lavender would have suited you better," he continued, ignoring her protest. "Still I am most grateful that you decided to be a little sensible and dress as I requested."

Clearly her harsh words had been completely disregarded so Elphaba took as deep a breath as she could in the restrictive gown and changed the subject.

"Grandfather, since I am to meet my future relatives by marriage today, perhaps you would be so good as to tell me what I can expect and what is expected of me? After all it would not do for me to disgrace you with my ignorance now would it?"

"Not now," said her grandfather. "But when we are on our way, in the coach, we will speak."

"Very well, sir."

* * *

"I know little of the ways of the Arjiki," explained Elphaba's grandfather, when the company had set off towards Kiamo Ko. "The King, in correspondence, is a civilised and mannerly enough sort for all that he is the ruler of a wild tribe rather than an orderly nation. I know nothing of the Queen or the Prince save what he has told me and that is little, only that the boy has no great flaws of form or character. They have a custom there that the bride and groom of an arranged marriage may not see each other before the actual ceremony, so you will not meet him until tomorrow or the day after – I've lost track of my calendar with all this travel. There will be a formal agreement which I, you, the King and the Prince will all sign once we have presented ourselves to the King today."

"If he still wants me for his son's wife."

"He will find no better political alliance for his people and that is what concerns him most, not what his son will think of his bride."

"I fear I am still unschooled in the subtleties of such politics," remarked Elphaba, genuinely interested, burying the fact that his answer would be the true reason for her marriage. "Perhaps you would explain to me how there is any advantage for either party when we are so far apart?"

"The King has great plans to unite the western tribes into a nation, even if that does not succeed he has power, do you see?"

"Not yet, sir, but please speak on so that I might."

"The Quadlings, as you will know from your time there, are greatly decimated as a people and an alliance with them would do us no great good. The Gillikinese, well they profit well from...shall we say the current state of things. The Arjiki are the most prominent and powerful of the western tribes, particularly now that they control Kiamo Ko. They were the logical choice but, when I inquired some years back, their son was engaged already and they could not in all honour break the arrangement. Then, some years back, I chanced to hear that the girl had died so I sent my offer again to the King and here we are."

"There is something, I think, that you are avoiding speaking of Grandfather," said Elphaba in a thoughtful tone. "Perhaps it is even a single word, perhaps I even know what that word is, despite what you think of me I have not been in ignorance in the few years I have lived with you. Perhaps I have even heard more than you would think, perhaps I know and understand more than you think me capable of."

"Perhaps," retorted the Eminent Thropp. "You underestimate how much I know of you, Granddaughter. You would have been a better Eminence of the East than your sister will be but she would not be so good a Princess of the Arjiki as you will. I did offer the King the choice of both of you but I knew that, with the wild life they lead in the plains, he would not take the crippled girl for his daughter in law. Nessarose adjusts to life as the Eminent Thropp's Granddaughter so much more quickly than her sister does that I cannot help thinking that the wild life of the Arjiki will also suit you far better than it would her."

"So I am to think that you have done me some great favour in this matter, Grandfather? After admitting so plainly that you were motivated by politics?"

"No I expect no gratitude from you for my part in this, I only _expect_ that you will fulfil your duty, all of your duties, to the best of your ability."

"Of which duties do you speak, besides the matters of politics that we have already discussed?"

"Your Nanny told me that she had explained to _all_ of a wife's duties," replied her Grandfather, averting his gaze as he said it.

"Yes indeed, sir," replied Elphaba quietly, staring fixedly out of the window, embarrassed by the mere memory of Nanny's frankness. "She was most...thorough in her explanations."

"She also assured me, with the benefit of all of her experience behind her, that there was no reason why you could not bear healthy, normal, children. Your daughters, if you have them, will follow Nessarose as heirs to the Eminency for I am likewise assured that it is unlikely she will set aside her religious convictions enough to marry and provide her own heirs. Any sons, of course, stand heir to the Prince and King. Why, you look almost pale, granddaughter have I upset you?"

Elphaba shook her head almost frantically before returned to the unearthly stillness that had accompanied her fixed stare at the window. Her grandfather saw that she was clearly unwilling to speak now and returned his attention to some notes he had to finish.

_I never thought of it for a moment!_ Elphaba's thoughts were as turbulent as her exterior was motionless and composed. _And what an idiot I am not to realise that of course my Grandfather and the King will expect me to provide the Prince with an heir. That was one of the first things Nanny mentioned to me when she spoke of men and marriage to me. I suppose I have been so caught up in the fact that my Grandfather has taken such liberties in the running of my life that the consequences of the arrangement hardly had time to occur to me! Though I suppose they will count themselves lucky if, when he sees me at the ceremony, the Prince does not decide that no alliance is worth this and flee to the farthest reaches of his Kingdom that very day! Perhaps I will hope just a little, for I know it is not in my character to hope too much when I have been so disappointed by life, that this Prince they intend for me is at least a reasonable person and we might discuss this arrangement our families have forced upon us as sensible people would._

She did not notice, lost as she was in thought, that her Grandfather had abandoned his note making for thoughts of his own.

_She seems so quiet and docile now, despite that display of temper earlier. I wonder if she even now plots some way to dishonour the arrangement I have made. I would not know the sprit of my daughter and her daughter and hers if I did not know that they are stubborn strong willed creatures that do not easily bend to the will of those older and wiser than they. I have already cautioned her a dozen times and more to behave herself until the marriage is done and the alliance cemented yet as surely as she is like her mother and her grandmother I fear she will disgrace me._

"I can hear you thinking from here, Eminence. Won't you share your thoughts to wile away some of the journey?"

"You would find my thoughts most unflattering, Granddaughter, and I fear your shrieks of rage would be audible from here to both ends of the caravan if I were to share them."

"If they are the same thoughts you have expressed on every possible occasion since you first informed me of the arrangement you had made then I doubt they are likely to make me 'shriek' with any more anger than I have already displayed but then I hardly care if you speak or not, I was only practicing my manners."

"I was wondering if this new...serenity in your countenance is the facade behind which you hide some plan to ruin my own plans at the worst possible moment."

"And is it the little you know of my character that leads you to this conclusion or do you base your judgements on the conduct of my mother?"

_Well she has me there,_ he mused, _I hardly know the girl save what she shows to the world and perhaps I have presumed to think that she is as shallow as her mother always seemed to me._

"Then speak plainly for once in our acquaintance, Elphaba!"

He saw her start slightly when he almost shouted her name and wondered f it was the tone that disturbed her or the fact he had used her name, which he did rarely – indeed he could not remember if he ever had before.

"Do not hide behind your sharp tongue and harsh words, say you will answer my questions plainly that we may have **one** conversation where you do not vex me beyond reason but simply answer what is asked of you!"

"A task, sir, that would be much easier to acquiesce to if you had spoken your questions."

"I had thought it obvious from our conversation. Tell me, without dissembling, what you intend to do when we arrive."

"I will do whatever if is you require of me, Grandfather, I'm hiding no secret agenda here. I see quite clearly that you have arranged matters so that I have no choice and I will _try_ not to be bitter about that but I think I shall not care to communicate with you often, once the arrangement is complete, save on matters of politics and government."

"A much less extreme reaction than I have been anticipating," pointed out her grandfather.

"No need to make so much of it," replied Elphaba, returned her attention to the view out of the window. He had no way of knowing it but he had piqued her interest, despite a lot of doubts, with what he had (and _hadn't_) said about the politics of the arrangement. Of course there were no guarantees about anything but at least it could only be more interesting than being dragged around Quadling country by her father or lectured at Colwen Grounds by …well everyone. Staring out of the window she idly wondered if her grandfather had told these people anything about her other than the fact that she was green and would not have been pretty even if she wasn't such an unnatural colour.


	2. Chapter 2

The day seemed to go on forever and the sun was close to dropping behind the mountains before Kiamo Ko finally loomed before them.

"I did not realise that Kiamo Ko was such an imposing structure," remarked Elphaba as her grandfather helped her out of the coach.

"It was built by central Ozians and won from them by the current King some years ago," explained her grandfather. "Now it is the autumn and winter lodgings of the King's family and those he invites."

Elphaba nodded thoughtfully and stayed silent as he led her inside, where they were greeted by the King's chamberlain and led to another room.

"The Eminent Thropp and the Thropp Third Descending of Munchkinland," announced the man, who looked very uncomfortable in his role as an announcer. Elphaba wondered exactly how long he had been in the position and suspected it was not long after the marriage arrangements were finalised.

Elphaba wasn't exactly sure what she expected the Arjiki King to look like but what she saw was a man, dark-skinned and black-haired, his skin decorated with blue diamonds tattooed on his upper arms and wrists – like bracelets and armbands imprinted on his skin. He was simply dressed in an open waistcoat like garment of a neutral beige shade and trousers of the same. He looked very out of place in the room, which was furnished as any office seen in the lands east of the Vinkus.

"Your Majesty," her Grandfather greeted him, making the half bow of an equal greeting an equal.

"Your Eminence," replied the King, standing up and responding with the same.

"My granddaughter."

Elphaba took that as her cue and, not knowing how to curtsey, bowed deeply to the King and cursed the awkwardness of her clothing (not to mention herself). The King inclined his head in a brief nod and examined her silently, in a manner that she found very uncomfortable. It was more, it seemed to her, than the usual reaction to her colour, he seemed to be silently cataloguing all of her visible flaws and (perhaps) weighing them against the value of an alliance with the Eminent Thropp.

"I have the formal agreement here, ready to be signed," he announced, turning back to the desk without further comment. "One copy for each of us. You can tell her the main points."

The Eminent Thropp winced unnoticeably and risked a glance at his granddaughter. To his surprise her face was impassive however she did step out in front of him and approach the desk.

"I am quite capable of reading it for myself, thank you. Your Majesty," she informed him in a bland inoffensive tone. She was privately pleased to see that he was obviously surprised by that.

"Very well then."

He handed copies to both of them, along with a quill pen and inkpot.

"It is as we discussed, Your Eminence."

"Your Eminence neglected to mention that my being adopted into the Arjiki tribe was one of the conditions of this arrangement of yours," remarked Elphaba, just after her grandfather signed his name.

"A minor detail," replied the Eminence, shrugging off her remark. "You were made aware of the key points."

"You will have seen, however," pointed out the King. "That the adoption is optional."

"I have no objection to the condition itself, Your Majesty, in fact I am very flattered to have the offer made to me. I was simply pointing out His Eminence's negligence in not sharing with me all conditions of the agreement before bringing me here."

"You did not seem receptive to a discussion of the finer points of the politics involved," snapped the Eminence. "Unless you have any further questions please sign your name."

"I apologise, I did not realise there was a time limit. Or are you just concerned that I am going to change my mind, even at this late date in the proceedings? If you believe nothing else, your Eminence, I would that you are aware of the fact that I **do **respect you enough that I would have told you before we arrived if I had no intention of going through with this marriage you have arranged for me."

While he was still deciding on how to answer that statement in front of the foreign king she plucked the pen out of his hand and scrawled her name (just legibly enough for the legality of the thing) on both copies of the marriage agreement.

"I hope you will tell my sister that it is this agreement that keeps me from coming to visit her," said Elphaba, in the tone of a formal request, as she handed one copy of the contract to her grandfather and the other to her soon-to-be father-in-law. One of the conditions of the agreement was that she must stay in the Vinkus until after her first child was born and, it seemed to her, that could be a very long time depending on her future husband reacted when he saw her.

"Naturally," agreed the Eminence. "If you wish I will carry a letter home to her for you, and to your father if you like though it may take some time to catch up with him."

"Tell Frexspar Thropp that you've married me off to a heathen?" replied Elphaba, perversely amused. "I will leave that to you, Your Eminence, I have no wish to cause him such distress."

"As you wish, I will tell him. Is there any other business, Your Majesty?"

"None that concern your granddaughter, I will have her escorted to a room and dinner brought to her. Tomorrow the Queen will send some of her women to prepare you for the ceremony. It will be performed in Arjiki but you aren't required to say anything, having already given your agreement in writing."

Elphaba nodded, having no other way to answer the statement. The king rang a bell and gave the person who arrived some instructions in Arjiki then told Elphaba to go with him.

"Goodnight granddaughter."

"Grandfather, Your Majesty."

The two men waited until she was out of the room and the door closed behind her before continuing in conversation.

"I shall presume that you do not disapprove, Your Majesty, since you gave us the paperwork to sign?"

"Given the political alternatives, she'll do," replied the king. "Though she is certainly no prize in appearance or personality."

"Do you think your son will object at the ceremony?"

"It's too late for that, the contract is signed, and the ceremony is a mere formality. My son will do his duty."

"As will my granddaughter."

"Excellent. We will have dinner with my son, I have told him that it would be impolite to ask you questions about your granddaughter but I thought you might like to meet him."

"An honour," murmured the Eminence, he could not have cared less but agreed for the sake of politeness.

* * *

Elphaba woke the next morning confused at first to find herself in a real bed, surrounded by stone walls. With a rather sudden jolt she remembered exactly where she was and why she was there.

_Why did I agree to this!_ She wondered furiously, forgetting all of the reasons she'd thought of in her sheer anxiety at what she was actually expected to go through with today. Unable to stay in bed a moment longer she climbed out and walked to the window. It faced west, other the lands of the Arjiki and the other tribes who inhabited the Thousand Year Grasslands, and it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Low mountains ending in an endless sea of green tinged brown.

_I'll be living out there!_

The sudden realisation drowned out her doubts, for the moment, all she could think of was that the Grasslands looked like the epitome of freedom – regardless of the fact she would be trapped in an unwanted marriage.

"Please, Miss Elphaba, won't you come away from the window?"

The maid's interruption distracted Elphaba from her reverie, until that moment she hadn't realised she was leaning on the sill of the open window.

"I couldn't possibly leave this view just now!" argued Elphaba. "Come and look, it's indescribable."

"I'm sorry, Miss, but it looks like a lot of dead grass to me and that's all," said the girl apologetically. "Please, Miss, do you know if I'm supposed to be getting a dress ready for you or something like that."

"I don't think so, the Eminence said it was all arranged and there's obviously no wedding dress in here so I think we will just have to wait until the Queen's ladies arrive."

"Very well, Miss, should I unpack your clothes do you think?"

"I don't think so," replied Elphaba. "These obviously aren't the Prince's chambers and presumably my things will be moved there some time today. Just sit down or something won't you? Your hovering is annoying me and I don't know what you are so nervous about, _you_ will be going home in a few days."

"Sorry, Miss," whispered the maid, perching on a chair that did not look like it was intended for a servant – she was sure her mistress did not intend for her to sit on the uncarpeted stone floor, however irritated her command to stop 'hovering' had been.

After that Elphaba's viewing of her future husband's kingdom was uninterrupted until the Queen's Ladies, accompanied by the Queen herself, arrived and unlocked the door. The unlocking was enough warning for the maid to jump to her feet and tap Elphaba's shoulder so the green girl was standing when they entered. Despite never having met the woman it was obviously that she was the Queen and Elphaba, ignoring the shocked chatter of the other women when they saw her, bowed to the Queen while her maid (who did know how) curtseyed as low as she could before standing as unobtrusively behind Elphaba as she could.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," said Elphaba, recalling that as she was the lower ranked female it was up to her to speak first.

"To you who will be my daughter, greetings also," replied the Queen in halting Ozian; she clearly had not had as much practice in it as her husband. "I bring to you my servants who will prepare you for the ceremony of _K'halhedarada_, marriage as said in your tongue."

"I am grateful for your thoughtfulness, my own servant being untrained in your customs. I apologise that I cannot speak to you in your own tongue, to my regret I had no time to prepare for the honour of becoming the wife of your son."

"If you practice, you will learn soon enough," replied the Queen, speaking less formally and with a hint of a smile. "So it was for me when I came from my tribe to join with the King. If you truly wish to learn I will arrange a tutor to work with you after the isolation."

"Isolation, Your Majesty?"

The Queen sighed softly, an almost irritated sound that made Elphaba think she had annoyed her until the older woman spoke again.

"I see my husband has been as helpful as his father was when I was married. It is the custom of the Arjiki that a man and his _K'halhe_, his wife, spend the first week of their pairing alone together. In the Grasslands they go off on their own but as we are currently more or less confined to the castle until spring I have arranged for the servants to bring you meals but for there to be no other contact with the other inhabitants of the castle. I have ensured this by having my son's belongings removed to a suite of rooms, I think comparable to a house in your country but without a kitchen, that are little used and quite far removed from the daily goings on of those who live here. Now if you have no more questions I will leave my Ladies to prepare you for the ceremony."

"No more questions for the moment," replied Elphaba, who could think of at least a dozen questions.

The Queen nodded and spoke rapidly in Arjiki to the huddle of women who had stood silently behind her while she spoke to her almost daughter-in-law. Chattering amongst themselves and pausing every so often to look at Elphaba as if her appearance was going to change, they led her down a lot of stairs.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Elphaba, when she saw what was in the room they were taking her into she refused to move – much to the obvious distress of the women, who clearly did not speak Ozian but understood the tone of her voice at least. Elphaba, cursing her Grandfather for a closemouthed idiot, shoved her way through the women behind her and leaned against the wall opposite the bathing room and its deep pool of water.

The women, as Elphaba had guessed, did not speak Ozian and could only assume that she had changed her mind about marrying their Prince. Chattering anxiously among themselves they decided to give up on getting the girl into the bath and some of them hurried upstairs to find the Queen while the rest stayed to make sure the girl wouldn't leave the hallway.

Elphaba kept her face expressionless as the frowning Queen approached her, she was in a bad mood now and didn't care to make the pretence of following protocol. The Queen, mindful of her own experience as a bride, was sympathetic to what the women had told her the girl's problem was.

"The Ladies tell me that you have refused to go into this room."

"It's not what you think," replied Elphaba, despite the fact the woman had been making a statement rather than asking a question. She was fairly sure what the woman thought.

"I think that you are scared of marrying my son, is this not so?"

"Well I would be lying if I replied 'no' to that," agreed Elphaba. "But that is not why I don't want to go in there. It seems there are some things that my grandfather did not explain to your husband over the course of their correspondence."

"Ah," agreed the Queen, despite the fact she did not see the point yet. "It is ever that way with men, to tell each other only what _they_ think is necessary and then tell their womenfolk even less."

"I am not sure how best to explain this so I will keep to the simplest explanation. The touch of water, even so much as a raindrop, burns my skin like fire would."

"I have never heard of such a thing," exclaimed the Queen, clearly believing her but shocked. "I understand now why you do not wish to go in there but why would your grandfather not tell my husband of this? Surely he knows that time must be spent upon the plains in spring, where there is often rain?"

"It seems he thought it would be enough to tell your husband that I am difficult and that my skin is…well as you can surely see."

"Oh," the Queen made a soft noise of embarrassment. "Is it not usual to have skin of different colours in the land of Munchkins? I know so little about the world beyond the Vinkus it did not occur to me that it was as strange to them as to us."

"I am the only one," confirmed Elphaba. "It is my understanding that my grandfather gave your husband a choice between myself, unattractive and flawed as I am, and my sister who was born crippled. It would appear that I am the lesser of two evils but if my grandfather has not told your husband of this flaw, and you believe it may be a problem in the spring and summer seasons, then I think you should certainly tell him about before the ceremony in case he wishes to change his mind."

"Wise words for one so young," mused the Queen. "In the place you come from how do you keep yourself clean if not by bathing in water?"

"With oil, I have some in my room, if you would explain to the ladies…"

"This is what our older folk, whose skin is fragile, do. I will explain to them that your skin is like that of an elder and must have no water on it."

With an imperious wave of her hand the Queen summoned one of the women to her and rattled off a fast explanation in Arjiki, which made all of the women perceptibly relax.

"There now, they will take you back to your room and help you bathe then get ready for the ceremony."

"I'd much prefer to bathe _myself_," replied Elphaba, keeping her dignity enough to allow only the slightest hint of pleading.

"It is the Arjiki tradition that a woman be attended by women at this time. I do understand your feelings," she added sympathetically. "Among the Yunamata, my people, a woman is a girl until she is wed and before her ceremony of joining is tended to only by her mother, or her closest woman relative if she has no mother. When I came here to wed the king I was tended by his mother's ladies, who did make most disparaging remarks. My ladies are also Arjiki but I will warn them most firmly that there is to be no gossip about the prince's bride if they wish to continue spending their springs and summers in the castle as I do, it is the most I can do."

"I am grateful that you will do so much for me when we are so recently acquainted."

"I will return after I have spoken to my husband," replied the Queen with a smile that showed Elphaba her thanks were appreciated. With a few sharp words to the ladies the Queen disappeared down the stairs and Elphaba allowed the women to take her back to the room she had slept in.

"Back so soon, my lady?" asked her maid, who had been nervously sitting in the room with nothing to do.

"My half senile fool of a grandfather neglected to mention to these people that I have a_…_problem with water. They tried to take me to a bathing room; fortunately the Queen was present and able to translate. Some of them are missing so I assume they have gone to fetch the oils they use on their elderly people here. I would much appreciate it if you would at least sit with your back to me while they do this since I prefer to be on display to least number of people possible."

"You're mean them lot are going to watch you bathe, my lady?" exclaimed the maid.

"As I understand it," replied Elphaba tiredly. "They intend for me to stand in the middle of the room while they do the work."

"Heathens!" protested the maid.

"So it would seem," agreed Elphaba, amused by the fact the girl seemed to be more firmly on her side now despite the fact she'd obviously found the journey as her maid very trying.

"Well of course I can be one less person gawking at you," agreed the girl, turning her stool to face the widow as she continued speaking. "Just fancy that not letting a girl wash herself up on her wedding day!"

"I believe they have some similar custom in Gillikin, wherein a group of ladies who are to be married on the same day will bathe and prepare themselves together."

"Begging your pardon, my lady, but at least in that case you wouldn't be the only one with her clothes off."

At that point the women who had vanished in another direction reappeared, carrying bundles of things and locking the door behind them, and the whole group converged on around Elphaba. Chattering to each other in Arjiki they seemed puzzled by the fastenings of her nightgown to the point where she took pity on them and undid the thing herself so they could take it off and away.

Unintentionally Elphaba tensed up, waiting for laughter or derisive comments, as the eight women examined her nude body – presumably for visible flaws they might need to report to someone. To her surprise there were no comments at all and the women became quite matter of fact as they pinned her hair up then quite gently cleaned her skin all over while she, much to her disgust at herself, blushed furiously and tried to avoid meeting their eyes.

Once her skin was dry they led her closer to the bed and pointed to a pile of black fabric then one of them picked up what looked like a very abbreviated version of the undergarments she wore at her grandfather's home and handed them to her.

"Oh so you at least expect me to start dressing myself," she murmured. "I suppose that's something."

The next item was a long black petticoat, very simple compared to the ones at home, that was fastened by a drawstring. This was followed by a short sleeved garment all in one piece and as she pulled it on Elphaba realised that the midriff baring top was of the same style as the Arjiki women were wearing, except their garments were of the same neutral beige colour the King had been wearing. Now that she thought about it the Queen had been wearing black with gold trim on the neckline of the top, nearly identical to this one except cut to fit individual figures. No doubt she could find someone to explain the significance to her later.

"You may turn around now, I think they are almost done."

Surprised by the almost happy tone of her lady's voice the maid did so and gasped slightly as she realised the wedding dress arranged by the Arjiki King was the costume of the natives.

"Oh, my lady, what will your grandfather think?" gasped the maid.

"More than he can politely say, I would imagine," replied Elphaba, highly amused by the necessity of her grandfather having to be polite about his granddaughter revealing so much of her unsightly skin to a large group of people. "Now hush so I can pay attention to what they do with those several feet of black fabric, in case they expect to continue dressing as they do. I have the impression from the Queen that the Arjiki expect their foreign wives to behave as Arjiki women do."

"You don't sound entirely unhappy about that, my lady."

"And you may pass that observation on to my grandfather if he questions you for I do find that I am not 'entirely unhappy' about the idea of living with, and as one of, these people."

"I've always thought you were an odd one," opined the maid, watching with unintentional curiosity as the foreign women took the length of fabric, tucked one in the petticoat and pinned it in place, then wrapped the entire thing around once at which point they folded it into a skirt like arrangement then draped the remainder of the fabric over Elphaba's left shoulder pinning it in place against the petticoat at the back.

To the surprise of both the maid and the bride to be, who was pushed in front of the full-length mirror before she could say a word, the Arjiki style quite suited her. It didn't make her look pretty by any means or soften the sharp angles of her face but somehow the colour of her skin looked less wrong in the foreign clothes. Though Elphaba supposed that it made her look even stranger to the Arjiki women, to see her dressed up as one of them.

With no change of expression the women pushed her into the chair in front of the dressing table so they could brush and braid her hair in a surprisingly simple style that, she noticed now, they all wore. Once they were done the one who seemed to be in charge made an imperious gesture at the maid, who looked helplessly at Elphaba.

"I believe she's finished dressing me in their style and would like you to put my mother's veil on for them," guessed Elphaba. "And if that's not what she meant, well it's what I want you to do now anyway."

"Yes, my lady," agreed the maid, reverently removing the veil from the bag it has been packed in. it was a light, misty, piece of lacework designed to be held in place by two silver combs, which the maid slid expertly into Elphaba's hair. "You'd think it would look odd, wouldn't you? With the silver and gold, black and white, and the fact it's clothes from two different places but somehow it suits you."

"Thank you," replied Elphaba genuinely. A knock on the door sent the Arjiki women into a flurry as their leader called out something in a challenging tone then relaxed as the reply came back and opened the door to admit the Queen.

As before Elphaba's maid curtseyed and Elphaba stood up then bowed to her future mother-in-law.

"I have spoken to my husband, the King, in the presence of the Eminent Thropp," she informed Elphaba. "Your grandfather apologised for the fact he did not consider your 'other disabilities' when corresponding with my husband and offered to break the marriage contract with no blame on either side. My husband has decreed that it is of little concern, it will be for your husband to decide if he wishes to find a way for you to join him in the grasslands or simply have you stay here."

"Thank you, I am glad this was cleared up before the ceremony took place."

"My ladies have done well, I must say, you look much better now that you are wearing something like proper clothes."

"Well thank you, I think. I was under the impression that I must look eve stranger to you now that I am dressed as everyone else here is."

"Not at all. Arjiki women come in many types, though you will be the first and only of yours I believe. If we stare it is more because you are the first woman from the east or north of Oz that we have ever seen. Those few traders who come this way do not tend to bring their womenfolk with them and our women have never left the grasslands. Now, it is time for the rest of us to leave. Your grandfather will be here shortly, to escort you, as is your custom. As is our custom the people will be lining the courtyard that you will walk through. My husband, our son, and the one who will perform the ceremony, along with the tribe's elders who will witness, will be waiting for you in a room at the other end. They will stare at you but I will tell you something an Arjiki woman would know, they are only doing it to see how you will react. I can see that you have much pride in yourself. Hold your head high and let them see it, especially because you are not of the Vinkus they expect you to act meek – they will not be unhappy if you disappoint them in this."

"What a curious difference in attitude towards the way women 'should' behave," mused Elphaba, covering her nervousness with the comparison.

"I would very much like to discuss those differences, perhaps after your week of isolation as it will be my duty to teach you what you need to know about being an Arjiki woman."

"I think I will like that very much. Before you leave, could I ask you to make arrangements for my servant to have a place to sleep until my grandfather is ready to leave?"

"Of course, she can help my ladies take your things to the rooms you will staying in then she may stay in this room until the Eminence is ready to depart."

"Thank you."

"I will see you after the ceremony. There will be a feast in honour of your marriage."

The Eminence arrived shortly after the Queen left and although he didn't comment on her dress the expression on his face was enough to make Elphaba smile to herself at his obvious disapproval.

"Are you ready?" he asked brusquely.

"As ready as I will ever be," replied Elphaba.

Her grandfather nodded and took her arm to lead her downstairs to the room where her soon to be husband waited for her.


	3. Chapter 3

"No words of advice as I enter married life?" asked Elphaba mockingly, as she and her grandfather made their way through the labyrinthine castle.

"If I thought you would listen or actually _wanted_ my advice I might be more inclined to offer it," retorted her grandfather. "As it is I simply wish to see this marriage over and done so that I may return to a _civilised_ country before winter sets in to keep me from getting there!"

"Such concern for my future wellbeing, however shall I stand it!"

"You seem to be coping well enough to not hold your tongue when it would be most appreciated!"

"And are those the only words of farewell you have for me, Grandfather? When this may be the last time you ever see me."

The softer tone of that remark caught his attention and he stopped walking for a moment to look at her. His infuriating granddaughter, so like her mother in her rebelliousness, so good at hiding her feelings that he couldn't even begin to guess how she really felt.

"Let us be realistic here, I hardly know you personally for all that you are my granddaughter's daughter. I am doing what is best for all of the people I rule, of which you are only one."

"That answers my question as surely as I would like, anyway," muttered Elphaba, starting forward again, this time walking faster so he was forced to almost run to keep up.

She slowed down again when she saw the door that led outside, guarded by two stoic faced Arjiki warriors who surprised her by both bowing as she approached.

"I leave you here and meet you in the room on the other side of the courtyard," her grandfather informed her. "According to their custom the woman who is to be wed must walk alone to be seen by the men of the tribe before she stands with her husband."

"So the Queen explained to me."

Elphaba took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and stepped into the utterly silent courtyard. She couldn't believe that so many people could be so quiet and watchful. Yet the stares weren't didn't feel the same as it normally did for her and she couldn't help feeling, perhaps wrongly, that _they_ were not judging her as their King had done. They simply watched, never making eye contact, as she walked down the aisle of paving left unoccupied and she had the feeling they would do this no matter who was walking past them. Finally she reached the door on the other side, a guard held it open for her, and she stepped into an unfortunately brightly lit room.

Prince Fiyero of the Arjiki had not been well prepared by his father regarding the appearance of his bride who now stood, looking almost defiantly at him, in the doorway of the room the wedding ceremony was to be performed in. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father make a summoning gesture and the young woman started walking slowly towards them.

"You neglected to mention some specifics," he hissed at his father, before she was close enough to hear.

"It makes little difference," replied his father, still looking straight ahead. "I told you she was barely tolerable at best in looks. Now kindly fix your eyes upon your bride, as your honour demands."

It gave him little comfort to look back at her and see that she looked about as happy about this arrangement as he was. Idly he studied her, why must she walk so damned slowly? He decided that he did not like her in the Arjiki style of clothing – she was so foreign, despite her dark hair and eyes, that she almost looked like a parody of a woman and not real at all. Curiously he looked as closely at her peculiar skin as he could without being too obvious about it and wondered, perhaps stupidly but he was quite distracted, how far down the colouring went. As his gaze went from her hidden feet back to her face she caught his eye, deliberately, her mouth twitched in what may have been almost a smile and then she, again deliberately, twitched her floor length skirt with one hand so that as she took her next step one of her bare feet – green all the way to her toenails – was briefly visible.

After what seemed like an age to both of the young people involved, Elphaba reached the end of the room where her grandfather, the Arjiki King, the Prince, and someone she could only assume was a priest of some kind, waited for her.

"Remember you don't need to _say_ anything," cautioned the Eminent Thropp, which caused his granddaughter to glance at him with her eyes flashing angrily before she turned her attention back to the person she was about to marry.

"Well don't just stand there, boy," snapped the King irritably, in Arjiki. "Take the girl's hands so we can get this signed, sealed, and done."

"Your concern for my future happiness overwhelms, my lord father," retorted Fiyero, in the same language.

Smiling, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, Fiyero held out his hands to Elphaba who caught on to what she was supposed to be doing and hesitantly laid her hands over his.

_As if she thinks I'm going to run away screaming because she's touching me_, mused Fiyero, as the shaman whom Elphaba had mistaken for a priest began the long and fairly tedious marriage ceremony. _Can't see why, I mean the Gods know she's the oddest looking person I've ever see – certainly not like any of the Gillikinese or Munchkinlander girls I met on my trips with Father, but it's not a repulsive strangeness._

Watching Fiyero's face for any sign of the revulsion she expected to see Elphaba was surprised to find him looking at her thoughtfully then, to her surprise, he tightened his grip on her hands and shyly smiled at her very briefly. From the almost surreptitious way he did it she guessed that this was supposed to be a solemn ceremony, even for those whose marriages were not arranged by their parents.

At last the longwinded shaman came to the end of his sermon and finished the ceremony with a final pronouncement.

"_Dase_ _daina,_ Elphaba Thropp, _de kia_ _ezarhe_ _ye_ _Fiyero_, _Quaki'rhezar_ _ra das_ _Arjiki_, _aré_ _sprii_ _dhi_ _rhytre_ _er Aelphaba_, _K'halhe_ _ra Fiyero_ _miah_ _de_ _Quaki'rhezar_ _ra das_ _Arjiki_."

"And it's done," announced the King. He was speaking mainly to the Eminent Thropp but the elders lining the sides of the room took that as a signal to depart.

"Signed, sealed, and agreed," confirmed Elphaba's grandfather, taking no notice of the bride or the groom.

"Does this mean I'm allowed to speak now," muttered Elphaba as she and Fiyero were left alone, except for the shaman, by the heads of their respective families.

"Well the ceremony is complete," agreed Fiyero distractedly, then the import of her words hit him and he wryly added: "You too?"

"I suspect if my grandfather could have completed this…agreement with my actually being present he would have been even more pleased."

"To be honest," said Fiyero, who felt he should start his marriage the way he intended to continue. "By the time my father was done 'preparing' me to meet you I rather hoped the same."

"At least you had some warning!" snapped Elphaba, snatching her hands away from him and glaring furiously. "My grandfather left me under the impression he was allowing me to accompany him on a political journey to the Emerald City – I didn't know about this arrangement until little more than a week before it happened!"

"I'm sorry," he said hastily when she paused for breath. "That didn't come out the way I meant it at all! What I meant was that…well it's not like I wanted to get married so soon, especially not to someone I don't even _know_, and then my father described you as…"

"As…?"

"Well…a vile tempered shrew whose looks are only barely this side of tolerable if one is feeling generous."

He watched her carefully after repeating his father's words, not knowing that it was a verbatim description from her grandfather's correspondence to the King and something she'd overheard her grandfather say about her.

"I don't mean to offend you," he hastened to add when she didn't slap him or scream at him as he half expected her too.

"It's difficult to be offended by the truth," she replied with a shrug.

"I think he's wrong!" Fiyero blurted the words out before he even had a chance to think about them.

"Give it time," replied Elphaba. "You'll soon see I am a vile tempered shrew, no doubt you'll be glad to leave me here come spring."

"I was referring to the remark about your looks…I'm not saying this very well, I apologise."

"I don't believe you can say anything about my looks that I have not heard before," she replied dismissively. "Go on if you wish. I am only sorry I do not speak your language if that would help you express yourself more easily."

"I will do my best in our common language, since you say you will not be offended. I was looking at you, during the ceremony, and no matter how I think about it I cannot truly say you are, or are not, attractive by the standards of my people because there is such…such _otherness_ about you."

"I know we are speaking the same language but I have no idea what it is that you are saying," she told him, almost gently.

"Let it suffice to say that I do not think you are ugly."

"That is certainly sufficient for me," agreed Elphaba, thinking he was just mouthing a polite lie for the sake of the fact they were obliged to spend the rest of their lives together.

"Elphaba…" he said her name awkwardly, it felt odd to speak so familiarly to a complete stranger.

"Fiyero?" she replied, even more awkward than him because she was not completely certain how to pronounce his name properly.

"May we speak seriously for a few minutes, before someone comes to fetch us to the feast and we are surrounded by people?"

"Of course."

"We don't know each other at all and we're only here because we had no choice but do you think, in spite of that, we might be able to at least _try_ to make a good marriage out of the situation they have put us in?"

"I'm no judge of what a 'good' marriage is," she answered thoughtfully, and he could tell she was surprised that he was being so considerate of her. "But it would be infinitely preferable to discover such a marriage than to suffer a marriage to someone I cannot tolerate."

"I feel the same," he said, daring to tease her a little he added: "even if you are the 'vile tempered shrew' my father warned me of, at least it will be an interesting marriage."

"I have never yet been accused of being boring," she answered him haughtily, doing a wonderful impression of the way a girl of her former rank was expected to act.

"We are agreed then?" he asked, holding his hand out in a formal fashion, he didn't know that in the east and north men did not shake hands with women.

"To give our marriage a chance," she said and completed the agreement by shaking his hand firmly.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness," one of the guards, speaking Arjiki, approached the couple. "The King sends me to remind you that protocol demands you follow directly behind him to the wedding feast."

"We're late?" guessed Elphaba, from the tone of the man's voice.

"Apparently so," sighed Fiyero. "Stupid of me to expect my father to give us a few moments to get acquainted."

"They'd probably prefer it if we never spoke to each other," agreed Elphaba. "Very well then, what happens now?"

"No one told you?"

"If they had I would not be asking now, would I?"

"I suppose not. Now there is a wedding feast, lots of eating and drinking toasts to the newly wed couple, then at some point in the evening everyone pretends not to notice us sneaking away."

"At which point we spend a week alone somewhere in this rabbit warren you call a castle."

"Well except for the servants bringing us food, yes."

The guard cleared his throat loudly; Elphaba rolled her eyes but made no comment as Fiyero offered her his arm and escorted her to the castle's main dining hall where what looked to Elphaba like the entire Arjiki tribe was waiting for them.

"It'll be fine," murmured Fiyero encouragingly when he saw how pale she looked. Elphaba almost smiled and nodded curtly as he led the way to the head table.

"Are your people always so **quiet**?" she asked him quietly.

"Noisy hunters go hungry," replied Fiyero.

"That makes sense."

"What took you two so long?" snapped Elphaba's grandfather.

"We took a few moments to ourselves to make sure we could pronounce each other's names correctly," snarled Elphaba. "Seeing as how no one bothered to tell either of us the other's name before we met."

"If you are quite finished, my dear, the people are waiting for the two of you to sit down so the toasts can begin," said the Arjiki King in a patronising tone.

"The sooner they toast the sooner all of this is over," muttered Fiyero before Elphaba had a chance to answer his father who, Fiyero was sure, was being deliberately irritating. With another one of those sharp nods Elphaba, after a moment of struggling with her dress, sat down between Fiyero and her grandfather.

"We only drink from the blue glass jug," explained Fiyero. " And we have to drink every toast, it's tradition I'm afraid so we'll probably both be suffering the effects of too much wine tomorrow morning."

"Lovely," muttered Elphaba in response. "Something to look forward to."

Even the first glass of wine, drunk after a longwinded speech entirely in Arjiki by the king, made Elphaba feel slightly dizzy. By the time the many speeches had finished, it seemed any and everyone was allowed a turn, she had stopped feeling dizzy but still felt strange – so strange in fact that she didn't even protest when Fiyero led her into the middle of the floor to begin the dancing and that was the last thing either of them could remember clearly of the evening.

* * *

A/N: translation of the Arjiki part of the ceremony (I'm sure most of you had an idea what it meant :))

"_Dase_ _daina,_ Elphaba Thropp, _de kia_ _ezarhe_ _ye_ _Fiyero_, _Quaki'rhezar_ _ra das_ _Arjiki_, _aré_ _sprii_ _dhi_ _rhytre_ _er Aelphaba_, _K'halhe_ _ra Fiyero_ _miah_ _de_ _Quaki'rhezar_ _ra das_ _Arjiki_."

"This woman, Elphaba Thropp, is now joined to Fiyero, Prince of the Arjiki, and shall be known as Aelphaba, wife of Fiyero who is Prince of the Arjiki."


	4. Chapter 4

Elphaba woke up slowly, which was very unusual for her. A moment after she realised she was, more or less, awake a headache of epic proportions and an unpleasant churning in her stomach made themselves known. She fell out of the strange bed and stumbled around the equally strange room until she found the necessary.

Fiyero was woken quite abruptly by the unexpected sound of someone crashing around the room, he relaxed slightly as he vaguely recalled some of the events of the day before and realised it must be Elphaba. At the same time he also realised he had the worst hangover of his life and was about to violently sick.

The pair of them, having emptied their stomachs thoroughly, sat with their eyes closed on the floor of the tiny room and Elphaba roused herself to comment on the situation.

"Is this another one of your Arjiki customs? Getting the bride and groom so blind drunk they don't remember consummating their marriage and end up forced to spend time together thanks to the after-effects of the wine?"

"If it is," replied Fiyero, stifling a groan at the ache in his skull. "They invented it especially to torture us because I'd never heard of such a thing."

"Well it makes me feel ever so slightly better to know that you weren't in on this plan."

"I expect it was my father's idea and as soon as I can open my eyes without wanting to kill myself I shall have some very strong words with him about it. Naturally he'll be completely unrepentant and tell me he was doing it for my benefit but it'll make me feel better."

"What happened to us having to spend the week alone together?"

"Another one of our ridiculously antiquated customs," snorted Fiyero. "I'm allowed to have contact with other people but you aren't."

"The Gillikinese and Munchkins have a similar custom in which the newlywed couple go away together for a space of time," noted Elphaba. "Except they're allowed to speak to other people. I don't particularly like people so it doesn't bother me to stay up here for as long as I can, as long as no one expects me to drink wine ever again because I swear I will not!"

"I feel the same way myself," agreed Fiyero, shaking his head briefly. "I can't believe my own father would do this to me, especially after I told him…"

"After you told him…?" prompted Elphaba when Fiyero fell silent for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"That I didn't intend to…well…"

"Are you blushing?" asked Elphaba incredulously, as she opened her eyes slightly to see why he was having so much trouble speaking.

"As a matter of fact I am," replied Fiyero irritably. "I'm not exactly accustomed to discussing things like this with young women!"

"Things like what?" prompted Elphaba.

"Like…what happened last night…I was going to wait until we got to know each other."

"Oh," she said, a drawn out syllable full of understanding. "I suppose after he met me he decided you'd never want to…know me…that well. It's a reasonable assumption."

"It wasn't his assumption, or his **decision**, to make."

"From what I've heard, mostly from my nanny who is an embarrassingly frank sort, it's probably a good thing I don't remember anything after the dancing – she made a particular point of warning me that…it hurts…the first time."

At that awkward statement Fiyero's eyes flew open and he stared at the young woman sitting across from him with her hair loose over her body and her eyes closed.

"You've gone all quiet," she noted. "Embarrassed again? I'm sorry, I'm not sure how much we're supposed to talk about such intimate things."

"It's not that," he assured her quickly and debated with himself for a moment before inching a little closer. "It's just that my father rather strongly implied that I shouldn't expect you to be…this to be your…damn but this is difficult!"

"I understand what you're saying. Your father told you it wouldn't be my first time, didn't he? And I know exactly who he got that impression from!"

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely.

"It's not your fault," she told him, equally sincerely. "My grandfather has persisted in believing that growing up in Quadling country made me 'precocious' despite all protests and proof to the contrary."

"This is not the start to marriage that either of us wanted, I'm sure," he continued.

"What, sitting together naked in a bathroom after spending half an hour throwing up everything we don't remember eating last night?" she replied. "It certainly is…unique as far as marital bonding experiences go I'm sure."

"Was that a joke?"

"Don't be absurd, surely you've seen by now I have no sense of humour whatsoever."

"Oh no sense of humour at all," he pretended to agree. "I'm sure this situation is ridiculous enough for even someone without a sense of humour to see the absurdity of it all."

"Now that we've sorted that out is there any possible way we could convince someone to give us medicine for the vile headaches I'm sure we both have?"

"I think I can walk now," agreed Fiyero, standing up cautiously and holding his hand out to assist her, if she needed help. "I'll get dressed and find some servants."

"Thank you," she said, taking his hand and standing up without showing as much self-consciousness as she felt – at least not until she realised he was staring at her then she defiantly crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. "What?"

"I…nothing…"

"Perhaps you're amazed you could be drunk enough to bed me?" she suggested sarcastically.

"You could sharpen knives on that tongue!" he retorted, angry at her for making such an assumption and himself for not being able to communicate properly with her.

"So I'm frequently informed. Is that the best insult you can manage? No, it couldn't be, I'm sure you can do better!"

Taking a deep breath to calm his temper down, and remind himself that she was probably at least as scared and upset as he was, Fiyero took a tentative step towards her and put his hands gently on her shoulders forcing her to look at him.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Elphaba, I promise I don't want to – I just have trouble saying the right thing and I don't always think about how my actions might look to someone else."

"Oh?"

Fiyero had to marvel at the way she could make a simple sound have such a wealth of meaning, this time it was clearly a combination of disbelief and a challenge to prove her wrong.

"I was just thinking about how different you look, compared to yesterday, wondering how you got that scar I see on your leg and wishing I could remember what last night was like so I'd know I didn't hurt you anymore than was inevitable."

She stared at him without blinking as he spoke and didn't reply at all so he let go of her and went to find some clean clothes, trying to avoid looking at the telltale bloodstain on the bed sheets as he did so. Halfway through rummaging in the cupboard he felt a light touch on his bare shoulder.

"A soldier, in Quadling country, put a spear into my leg. He was delirious with one of the dozens of fevers foreigners catch down there. I probably would have bled to death but the nearest healer was someone who knew about my allergy to water and used it to cauterise the wound. Even so it became infected and I was delirious for weeks afterwards but I didn't die, which I suppose was a good thing. At least I saved my sister from having to be horrified at the idea of marrying a heathen."

"A heathen am I?" he asked her lightly, silently slightly horrified that she could speak so matter of factly about what must have been an excruciating experience – his mother had warned him about her allergy, as she called it, before the wedding with a quiet remark about his father not thinking such 'minor details' were important.

"It doesn't particularly bother me, I'm an atheist myself, but Nessarose is a very devout Unionist – you'd be thrilled to leave her here for six or seven months of the year."

"What about you?" he wondered, holding clean clothes in his hands but not completely certain of the protocols involved in getting dressed when one's wife was still naked. "How do you feel about staying here in spring and summer?"

"I was not aware that I had a choice. Your father…well I am sure you can imagine how he put it."

"I don't see why not," he told her thoughtfully. "If you wanted to. It rains quite often in spring but you can always see it coming so you'd have plenty of time to get under cover. There are some rivers and streams that we cross, but that's on horseback through the shallows."

"Horseback riding? Me?"

"Like I said, if you want to. Oh you don't know how?"

"I am afraid there are not many horses in Quadling country and my grandfather only keeps carriage horses but I would like to learn and I would like very much to go out into the grasslands in spring."

"It's the most amazing place in the whole world, as far as I'm concerned."

"I could see it from the window of the room I stayed in when we got here," she replied quietly, encouraged by his passionate enthusiasm for his homeland. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

"Do you really think that?"

"Of course, I'm not lying to flatter you or something ridiculous if that's what you think."

"I didn't."

"Think?"

"Think that. I was just surprised, most people…well beautiful isn't the first word they use when they first see the grasslands."

"Most people find the Quadling jungle at the least aesthetically pleasing but the only effect it had on me was a rash from the humidity the entire time I lived there. Your grasslands look delightfully dry."

"It will get gradually greener through the autumn and winter, it rains even more then. Except in the mountains where we are, up here it rains all autumn then switches to snow and ice, but that it's still better for the older people to have a warm castle getting snowed on than a tent getting rained on. Better for the horses too."

"Horses?"

"I suppose you wouldn't know that my people raise horses, to sell and trade as well as to use for travelling in the grasslands. When my family took over this place they discovered practically miles of caverns in surrounding mountains, which can be reached from the castle, and turned them into stables. Some of the more old-fashioned members of the tribe prefer living in there to the comforts of the castle. Something about the heritage of our tribe being corrupted by eastern frivolities, such as real beds with cotton sheets and the like."

"My grandfather has a similar opinion about comfortable beds," remarked Elphaba. "The beds in the manor house at Nest Hardings greatly resemble rocks with sheets on them."

"What about in Quadling country?" asked Fiyero curiously, he'd never been out of the Vinkus except to go to the Emerald City on business with his father.

"In Quadling country…well it depends on where you are. In the semipermanent settlements they have beds, for lack of a better word, woven from reeds and grasses. The finished object greatly resembles a very large basket, which they line with soft grasses and leaves."

"That doesn't sound terribly…umm…"

"Hygienic?" offered Elphaba. "Most people change their bedding before it starts to rot but it was difficult in the wet season to find bedding so it did used to get a bit…hmm fragrant."

"I don't suppose our winter tents would be exactly pleasant to an outsider either," conceded Fiyero. "For all that the city bred folk look down on us we're not nearly as primitive as they think, just different."

"You've been visited by them in winter?"

"Not personally but back in my grandfather's time, it's my father's opinion that it's not only the snow that keeps visitors away after autumn."

"I recall the few northerners, who weren't missionaries that is, who visited the Quadling country were horrified by the fact what they call a house down there isn't made of stone."

She shivered slightly at the memories that were brought up by talking about her childhood home but Fiyero mistook the movement.

"Are you cold? It does get a bit chilly up here at this time of morning."

"A little," she said, because she didn't want to be asked what had caused her to shiver if not that. "Do you know if they put my clothes in here somewhere?"

"In here," said Fiyero, having finally puzzled out the strangely coloured garments hanging in his wardrobe. "I didn't realise until just then...this headache has made my brain a bit fuzzy."

She murmured something inconsequential and politely stared out of the nearby window while Fiyero started, and finished, getting dressed. Once he moved away from the wardrobe, informing her he was going downstairs to talk to his father, she looked inside and discovered that all of her meagre possessions had been quite carelessly stacked on the bottom under her dresses.

* * *

As was usual for the Arjiki in their winter home Fiyero had no idea where his father might be at this time of the day, though he was certain he would be up. As it happened he came across his mother, in a small sitting room near the dining hall, first – shortly after he found some servants and instructed them to clean up his rooms and take a headache potion for his wife with them.

"Good morning, your Majesty," he said in an icily formal tone. He had no idea if his mother had been a willing accomplice in the drugging of the newlywed couple and wasn't feeling particularly generous in any case.

"You're out and about early in the day, my son," she replied in Arjiki, the same language he had addressed her in. "For one so recently wed."

"I'm looking for your husband."

"He said something about going to the library," she paused as she realised her son was barely holding his temper under the thin mask of civility. "Is there something wrong?"

"If you are referring to my mood I am currently suffering the rather vile after-effects of that…concoction my father insisted on dosing myself and my bride with last night."

"I would have you know that I had nothing to do with that," replied his mother, in a soft formal tone, she clearly either knew or had guessed what that concoction had been. "Having experienced the effects myself I would have refused to have anything to do with it if I had been asked but I was not."

"I never really thought you would," said Fiyero in a conciliatory tone. "It's him I'm angry with, for interfering in my life yet again and for hurting a poor innocent girl in the process!"

"How did Elphaba fare?" asked his mother gently.

"I…she says she's fine but after what we guess happened last night…well I wouldn't blame her for not wanting to tell me if she wasn't."

"Perhaps I could talk to her?"

"I thought she was supposed to be in isolation, isn't that what our ridiculously antiquated customs insist upon?"

"Even your antiquated ancestors understood that a woman needs a woman to talk to at time like this. If she was Arjiki her own mother would be allowed to counsel her but as she is of Munchkinland and motherless besides I believe that, with your permission, it would be acceptable for me to speak with her in a purely advisory capacity."

"By all means," agreed Fiyero straight away. "I think that's a very good idea, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, I remember what it is like to be a foreign bride in this culture."

With little more conversation they went their separate ways. Fiyero found his father in the library, apparently absorbed in a large and very dusty book.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," said the prince in a completely bland tone.

"Avoiding your new wife already, son?" replied his father, chuckling softly. "Can't say I blame you for that! Her grandfather mentioned that she could read though so you'll have to find somewhere else to hide next week."

"I did not come here to hide from my wife," replied Fiyero, after taking a deep breath. "I came to speak to you, sir, about your underhand behaviour at our wedding celebration!"

"Underhand behaviour? What in Oz are you talking about, boy?"

"Oh just a small matter of some drugged wine!" snapped Fiyero, losing the last vestige of self-control he possessed at his father's offhand tone. "And the related matter of me not remembering anything that happened last night after the last round of toasts!"

"You're welcome," said his father placidly, ignoring what he saw as an unreasonable outburst. "You'll thank me for it later, boy, trust me."

"I don't believe I ever really trusted you and I certainly never shall again!"

"Now, now, there's no need to have a fit of hysterics about it!" his father berated Fiyero sharply and stood up to emphasise his displeasure his son's attitude. It wasn't a particularly effective method of intimidation as Fiyero's father had to look up slightly to look him in the eye.

"I believe my reaction so far has been quite moderate, considering what you did!"

"Well I could hardly warn you, now could I?" his father insisted in a reasonable tone. "Couldn't have you having last minute second thoughts and making a mess of the alliance, this way it's signed and sealed properly."

"Of course," said Fiyero coldly. "I should have realised that a successful alliance was your goal in this situation. I beg your pardon for assuming you might show some feeling for the human beings involved in it."

"Now see here!" blustered his father furiously.

"I'm done, thank you," Fiyero cut him off sharply and left the room with no further comment.

* * *

After Fiyero left the room Elphaba went through her things and found the oil she used on her skin so she could clean up before she got dressed for the day. When she was done she went back to the wardrobe and stared at it with a frown as she realised the dress she wanted to wear was not present – she assumed one of the servants had, by accident or request, neglected to bring it upstairs with the rest of her things. Examining the remaining choices, all as bad as each other as far as she was concerned, she decided on the lavender cotton dress.

Just as Elphaba finished tying the dark purple silk ribbon around her waist, the frivolity sadly necessary for keeping the dress in place, there was a short knock on the door followed by the entrance of two young women wearing what she had guessed to be the servants' uniform in Kiamo Ko. One of them made her way to the bed and began expressionlessly stripping off the blankets and sheets while the other held out a mug of what looked to Elphaba to be pale green sludge. When the Prince's wife raised her eyebrows questioningly at maid and cup both the older girl, holding the cup in one hand, mimed that it was a headache cure and Elphaba gratefully accepted it though she was cautious about taking the first sip in case it was made too much of water.

Fortunately it seemed that, while the potion tasted **disgusting**, it was made with milk and so was safe for her to drink. Holding the cup in both hands she sat down on the cushioned window seat and studiously avoided looking at the servants until they finished their work and left. Even then she kept looking out of the window, it overlooked the grasslands as the other room had and she found that she much preferred enjoying the view to considering the future.

Another knock on the door failed to really attract her attention and it wasn't until she was bid 'good morning' in accented Ozian that she turned around to look at her mother-in-law.

"Good morning," she replied politely. "I apologise if I'm too informal but I don't really know how I am supposed to address you."

"In public you should call me 'Your Majesty', if you speak to me directly, or 'Her Majesty, the Queen' if you refer to me to others – not that there are many here who speak the same language as you."

"Hopefully there will be someone who can teach me to speak Arjiki."

"I would be happy to, if my son feels he doesn't have the time."

"I haven't asked him yet," replied Elphaba defensively, she disliked the disapproving tone the Queen used. "We've hardly had time to talk, what with…one thing and another."

"In private," remarked the Queen, continuing her earlier sentence. "You may call me Eilan, which is the name I was given by my people when I became a woman."

"Eilan," repeated Elphaba. "Does it have a meaning in your language?"

"I should have said it was part of my name. My full name is _Eilankianamehitala_, which means 'sunrise over the mountains' – more or less."

"My word, do all of your people have such long names?"

"Names are very important to all of the tribes despite the fact we have different traditions. For example, among my people a son would never be given the same name as his father, as my husband's people do, for fear that the _Khiaresh Neradha_ – the Death Spirit -would mistake the younger for the elder."

"It's all very interesting, I'd like to hear more about your people."

"I would be happy to tell you but not today because this was supposed to be a short visit to make sure you were not injured."

"Physically I am quite unharmed," said Elphaba politely. "And I presume that is the main condition you were concerned about?"

"It was, though I realise you must also have feelings about the situation and I empathise with you. I would not have you repeat this but I think you are luckier than I was – my son has the potential to be a much better man than his father."

"For that you have my sympathy," replied Elphaba, clearly meaning for the fact that Eilan was married to a man like the King instead of a man like her son.

"One learns to cope and in many ways he is just like the men of my tribe. Now I bid you good day, I will not see you for another six days. When the period of isolation ends you will be considered the Prince's wife and a woman of the Arjiki. There are very few traditional duties associated with the position and they are all assigned at the Prince's discretion so I will leave it to him to tell you."

* * *

On her way back to the main section of the castle Queen Eilan met her son heading up to his rooms.

"Good morning," she said politely, even though they had already spoken once already she sensed that her son was very angry and so formality was the best approach.

"Unfortunately not," sighed Fiyero. "But it's unlikely to get worse."

He met his mother's eyes briefly before looking studiously over her shoulder.

"Is my wife well?"

"She spoke truly to you when she said she was physically unharmed. She is not _happy_," his mother added, quite unnecessarily in Fiyero's opinion. "But that is only to be expected."

"Thank you for speaking to her."

"It was no hardship."

After a few more banal pleasantries they continued on their separate ways. Fiyero pushed the door open, its well-oiled hinges making no sound to announce his presence, and hesitated to look at the woman inside. She looked different again, dressed in the Eastern fashion, with her hair still all tangled from sleep - he wondered if not brushing her hair was a symptom of her unhappiness.

"I can hear you breathing," she observed, without turning away from the view outside the window. "So you might as well speak."

"Did you know it was me?" he wondered. "Or just that there was someone here?"

"There was a good chance that it was you," she replied politely. "Since most of the people around here aren't allowed to speak to me yet and don't speak the same language even if they were allowed."

"That sounds very sensible."

"It sounds like you can't decide if that is a good thing or not," observed Elphaba. "Would you prefer it if I got hysterical? I could _try_ but I'm not by nature a person who has hysterics."

"I didn't suppose you were," Fiyero assured her. "I believe a person inclined to hysterics would have had them long before now."

"Most certainly," agreed Elphaba. "In fact I should probably warn you that as a rule I am not giving to being openly emotional, unless you count being sarcastic and angry obviously."

"Noted," said Fiyero then, feeling he should reciprocate, added: "I'm normally not much of one for making conversation so if it seems like I'm not talking to you it's only that I don't have much to say."

"Also noted," replied Elphaba. "You looked at me oddly when you came in, why was that?"

"You saw me?"

"Your reflection in the glass."

"I was just thinking you looked different in that dress, compared to earlier."

"I would have put the wedding dress back on," she explained, almost nervously. "But I wasn't sure if I was supposed to and anyway I haven't the faintest idea **how **to get it back on."

"I'd offer to help but it's always been a mystery to me," admitted Fiyero. "Anyway I don't mind what you wear…not that I'm assuming in any way that you were asking for my _permission_."

"Fast learner, aren't you," remarked Elphaba. Feeling she was being a little rude by not facing him she gestured to the window she was looking out of. "The view from these rooms is wonderful, will we be spending the rest of the winter here?"

"There's no reason why we couldn't," replied Fiyero congenially. "Mother had all of my things moved up here shortly before the wedding and I'm not particularly attached to the rooms I was living in. I'd offer to let you have your own room if you preferred it but…"

"Your father wouldn't allow it?" Elphaba guessed and knew she was right by the expression on Fiyero's reflection in the window. "It doesn't matter, I mean the tents your people spend the other half of the year in are comparatively small aren't they? So it will be good practice."

"That's very…"

"Sensible?" interjected Elphaba. "We already had that conversation."

"So we did," agreed Fiyero. "Is there room up there for me with you **and** your dress?"

Elphaba made a sound of disgust that was obviously directed at the metres of fabric that made up the full skirt of her gown then rearranged it so it took up less room and gestured brusquely for him to join her if he was so inclined. On his way across the room he picked something up from the chest of drawers before sitting down next to her.

"I remember that I used to like living out there all year, even though it was hard and I know it's better for our weaker people to live in the castle and the caves," he said reflectively as he looked out over the grasslands.

"Is there some reason why you can't?"

"The same reason I can't or have to do a lot of things," replied Fiyero wearily. "My father believes that I am 'too young' to stay with the tribe without his guidance. You see, if I was out there, I would be expected to act as their Prince and take charge of those who choose to remain outside the castle in autumn and winter but my father believes I can't handle the responsibility."

"Your father is an ass," remarked Elphaba with feeling, ignoring Fiyero's startled expression at the use of mild profanity. "Apparently he's cast in the same personality mould as my_ dear_ grandfather."

"The one who didn't even say goodbye to you before he left?"

"The very same."

"Yet here we are, getting along well enough in spite of our families."

"Is that what we're doing?" asked Elphaba in genuine surprise. "Getting along?"

"We're practically friends already," Fiyero assured her. "As much as two people who have known each other for less than a day can be anyway."

"Well I've never had a friend before so you'll have to tell me if I'm doing it wrong."

"I haven't either, really," admitted Fiyero. "So you'll have to tell me if you think **I'm** doing it wrong."

"I think I can do that," agreed Elphaba. "Is a friend allowed to ask what the reason for the blue diamond tattoos is? I noticed that you and your father have them, in different places, but I don't recall seeing them on any of the other men."

"The rest of the men who have them spend the autumn and winter either out in the grasslands or down in the caves guarding the herds. It's a symbol of the fact that we passed a certain manhood ritual – it's required of any male of royal blood but the others chose to take it. Of course the definition of 'passing' in the case of this means living through it but there's no shame in not taking it. If you're an ordinary Arjiki boy you can still become a warrior of the People but those with the mark of the blue diamonds are the most...I'm not sure of the correct phrasing in Ozian. They are the most sought after husbands, the most preferred for important duties."

"I think you'd say they have the highest social status," answered Elphaba thoughtfully. "Since you have a royal family I suppose they would be the equivalent of noblemen, except northern and eastern noblemen have their rank because their fathers did – they don't even have to prove themselves worthy as you did, which strikes me as a ridiculous method of deciding who will rule a piece of land. What would have happened if your father was left without an heir?"

"Well if I'd had brothers the next oldest would have been required to take the test when he turned fifteen and so on until one of them survived. That's how it was with my father, he was the youngest of seven and five of those were sons. Since my father has only one child he would have had a choice between taking a new wife or adopting one of the warriors who had survived the ritual."

"How does one take another wife when the first is still living? I haven't lived very long out of Quadling country so I've never heard of such a thing."

"Is it true they don't _have_ marriage in Quadling country?" wondered Fiyero. "There are all sorts of rumours you know."

"They certainly don't have any equivalent to arranged marriages," conceded Elphaba. "But they have couples who are permanently paired, they just don't feel the need to make a big fuss about it and being permanently paired doesn't equate to the northern notion of monogamy. Of course those the missionaries manage to convert do marry in the Unionist fashion quite often and follow the…rules I suppose they are of marriage. Did Great-Grandfather bother to tell your father that my father is a Unionist missionary in Quadling country?"

"Your father is a Unionist missionary and your grandfather _still_ implied that you hadn't been…"

"As good as I should have?" finished Elphaba, Fiyero nodded. "Probably because I made my lack of belief in the Unnamed God **quite** apparent in the time I lived with him. My sister, on the other…hand, embraced the religion quite fanatically and I would be surprised if she actually accepts the rank of Eminent Thropp when our Grandfather dies – it will depend entirely on whether her desire to have control and preach to all and sundry outweighs her desire to become a maunt and devote her life to God."

"What happens to the rank of Eminence if she decides to refuse it?"

"Our brother, Shell, would inherit then my daughters – if any – then any daughter of his followed by any son. It's traditionally a rank that follows matrilineal inheritance but Great-Grandfather's mother had no daughters and neither did her one sibling so the rank went to her only son."

"Do you think she will refuse?"

"I think it depends how long Grandfather manages to stay in this world. You wouldn't think it to look at him but the man is closer to eighty than seventy."

"I'm surprised he made such a long journey in person, when he could have had the agreement sent to him to sign then sent back with you for the wedding."

"I suppose he didn't trust anyone else to be able to handle me until all of the papers were signed and I was someone else's problem."

"I don't think of you as a problem!"

Elphaba was so startled by his declaration that she turned away from the view, neither of them having made eye contact since he came back into the room, to look at him and smile ever so slightly.

"Thank you," she acknowledged him simply, her tone was softer but her voice still sounded harsh so he assumed it must be her natural way of speaking. "I've been lucky beyond deserving that the husband my grandfather arranged for me is capable of interesting conversation **and** doesn't want to leave me cooped up in this castle all year round."

"I feel the same, about the intelligent conversation. I have to confess something though," he added, guilty looking away from her. "When my father offered me a choice between waiting a few years to marry a beautiful cripple or marrying a girl who was unattractive but otherwise whole **now**…well I was tempted to ask for your sister."

"Why didn't you?" she was curious but her tone didn't seem accusatory to Fiyero.

"I wanted a wife who could share every aspect of my life with me, if she chose to, and I gave myself a stern talking to over being so shallow as to care about her looks. You probably haven't seen enough of my people to be able to tell but I'm not exactly a prize when it comes to looks – in fact I'm considered quite homely and if it wasn't for the fact I was a prince who had passed the ritual of blue diamonds I'd probably never have gotten a wife at all."

"I find your personality far more interesting than your looks," said Elphaba with a shrug. "Regardless of how they compare to your fellow Arjiki. And if I can learn how to live like your people do then I will happily, or at least willingly, follow you out into the grasslands come spring."

"I'll be happy to teach you some of it and I'm sure there are women who would be happy to help with the other things once you learn our language. You do want to learn our language don't you?"

"Of course," agreed Elphaba emphatically. "How else could I talk to people who don't speak Ozian? But if you don't want to take the time your mother offered to teach me."

"I wouldn't be much of a friend if I couldn't do something simple like that for you now would I? We could start this week if you wanted, since we're stuck in these few rooms together for the next seven days."

"I'm sure that's not what we're _expected_ to be doing," she said caustically.

"And you always do what people _expect _you to do?" he countered disbelievingly.

"I avoid it wherever possible," replied Elphaba, clearly seeing his point. "Shall we start now?"

"We can," agreed Fiyero. "There was one thing though, you seem to have misplaced your hairbrush so I thought you might like to borrow my comb – unless you don't particularly feel like brushing your hair today, it makes no difference to me."

At the end of this short but obviously sincere speech he took a comb, carved from some kind of white rock, out of his pocket and offered it to her.

"Thank you. I only have a comb but it seems to have gone missing in all the packing and unpacking of my things."

Elphaba took the comb, intending to put it to good use, and found almost immediately that her dress restricted her movements to the point where she could only reach parts of her hair. Seeing her plight Fiyero held out his hand with a murmured "let me?", Elphaba looked startled but handed him the comb then sat quietly while he stood up behind her and combed the parts she couldn't reach.

"Why do easterners design clothes that stop women from doing such simple things as brushing their own hair?" he wondered softly.

"Clothes like this are designed for women who have maids, servants, to do those things for them. This is actually considered a very simplistic style of dress, I never wore anything like it until a few days ago when my grandfather took away all of the clothes I had from Quadling country. In Gillikin there are ladies who regularly wear dresses that they cannot even put on themselves – they call it 'fashion'. The Quadlings and, from what I've seen, the Arjiki are much more sensible. What is that comb made of, some kind of rock?"

"_Bisha ra das elephant_," replied Fiyero, Elphaba got the impression that the answer was several words but the language was so fluid that they all sounded like one long word to her. "I think easterners call it 'ivory', it comes from elephants."

"All that you just said means ivory?" asked Elphaba incredulously.

"No," Fiyero shook his head then explained. "It means 'bone of the elephant'."

"Can you say it slowly, break it down for me?"

"_Bisha_ is bone, _ra_ is of, _das_ is the, and _elephant_…well we named them so it's elephant but we say it slightly differently."

"Like my name, it sounds almost the same in Arjiki, I noticed at the wedding ceremony."

After that came an argument about Fiyero's method of teaching. Elphaba wanted to know as many words as possible as soon as possible but Fiyero insisted on teaching one at a time and making her say it until it was pronounced properly. He eventually won that argument by convincing her that it would take longer to correct bad pronunciation than it would to learn each word properly to begin with and they spent the rest of the afternoon, with one break to eat, doing just that. By the time it started to get dark Elphaba could almost understand the words she'd learnt when Fiyero used them in sentences and she could manage to haltingly speak them herself, though Fiyero had to try hard not to smile at her accent.

"Enough!" declared Fiyero, when it was completely dark outside. "There's always tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," said Elphaba contritely. "It's just…it wasn't nearly so difficult to learn Quadling."

"Since you grew up there, I imagine that you started a lot younger," said Fiyero. "You're doing fine, I didn't learn so many words and phrases the first day I started studying your language! Now I think it's time to rest, especially if you still feel as wretched from that cursed potion as I do."

Elphaba nodded in agreement and looked like she wanted to say something.

"Question?" guessed Fiyero perceptively. He'd been paying attention to her body language all afternoon, he'd had to since she spoke so little.

"I was just wondering if your people wear clothes to bed and if you don't whether you expect me not to."

Elphaba had a vague feeling that the question should be more awkward but after the events of that morning it didn't seem like much to get embarrassed about.

"You can wear what you like," said Fiyero. "We don't have any particular rules, mostly we wear clothes to bed when it's cold and don't bother when it isn't. Of course if it bothers you for me to…you know not…then I will."

"Thank you for being so understanding. Maybe we could not look while we're changing clothes? At least until we are, well I don't know how you feel so I suppose I mean 'I am', feeling more comfortable about it?"

"Of course," agreed Fiyero, deciding right then to wear his light summer trousers to bed for a while. "That's hardly an unreasonable request."

"I hope you don't kick too much," remarked Elphaba, when they were sitting – a little awkwardly – in the bed together.

"I've never shared a bed with anyone to have complaints," admitted Fiyero. "But somehow I don't doubt that you'll kick back if you feel the situation warrants it."

Elphaba made a low sound of amusement and snuggled own under the covers. Fiyero put out the lamp then did the same, both of them thankful for the fact that the bed was big enough to fit three or four people in it.


End file.
